


No Arguments

by pterawaters



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Authority Figure, F/M, Not Beta Read, Nurses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2012-11-01
Packaged: 2017-11-17 12:36:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pterawaters/pseuds/pterawaters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sorry! I'm sorry! That was <i>classic</i>, though."</p>
<p>
"I have a head injury," John said, sticking his bottom lip out even further. "Don't you practice <i>not</i> laughing at injured people all day at work?"</p><p> 
"I'm not at work," she pointed out. "And besides, I've only perfected the art off staving off the laughter until I get to the break room."</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Arguments

"Don't even think about it!" Melissa cried as John tried to get up from his hospital bed so he could change out of this ridiculous gown. He still had functioning teeth and elbows and feet (though his feet felt much further away than when he was younger). Before he got further than six inches off the bed, Melissa pushed him back down. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I've been discharged," John explained, rolling his eyes. "That means I'm getting dressed and getting out of here." 

"With two broken wrists and a concussion? No, you're waiting for Stiles to get here," she replied, though she did go to the wardrobe in the corner of the room and took out his clothes before bringing them over. 

John sighed, trying to pinch the bridge of his nose, but foiled by the cast holding his thumb and fingers apart. "He just called. He's running late." 

"Uh-huh," Melissa said, snatching John's shirt away from him when he tried to take it from the pile. "So instead of relaxing for a bit and waiting, you decided to what? Walk home?" Melissa snorted and shook her head. "I don't think so, Mister." 

"That's Sheriff to you," John replied with a little laugh, but he let Melissa push him back to laying on the bed. 

Shaking her head again, Melissa replied, "Not in here. In here, I'm the boss and I say you're not going anywhere until we've got a solid plan for getting you home." 

"But what if someone needs the bed? I'm fine. I promise. I don't even live that far. I'll walk." 

"You are _not_ walking home in this condition, John David Stilinski!" Melissa cried, poking his chest with one finger. "You almost got blown up yesterday! Besides, how late is Stiles running? Ten minutes? Twenty?" 

John winced, "Two hours." At Melissa's disappointed sigh, John insisted, "He said it was really important. Life-or-death."

Rolling her eyes, Melissa shrugged, but the way her mouth turned down made John's heart ache a little. "It's always life-or-death with them these days, isn't it?" And there it was. The terrible secret both of them had been keeping lately – the existence of werewolves and other things that John still didn't quite believe in.

"Yeah," John agreed, the suddenly dour mood making him more than a little uncomfortable. 

Melissa must have felt it too, because she took a sharp breath and looked at her watch. "Hey, my shift ends in about fifteen minutes. How about I take you home, get you settled?" 

"No," John said quickly. "No, you don't have to do that. I'm sure you want to get home." 

"To an empty house and a TV-dinner? Yeah, no thanks," she replied with a grin. "No, I'm going to finish up and then I'm coming back here and I'm going to take you home. No arguments." 

John smiled. It had been a long time since anyone but Stiles had cared about him like this. It felt nice. "Yeah, okay. No arguments." 

~~**~~

Aside from a little mild embarrassment when Melissa helped him get his pants buckled, John made it home in good spirits. Getting around with casts on both wrists was more challenging than he'd expected and Melissa seemed to be able to anticipate what he needed help with before he even had to ask. "You're really good at your job," he said as Melissa presented him with a glass of water, bendy-straw and all. John didn't even know they'd had bendy-straws in the house.

"Flattery won't get you pain meds any earlier than exactly on schedule," she replied with a smirk, taking the glass away. "Now go lay down on the couch." Melissa turned back toward the kitchen counter and then the refrigerator. John opened his mouth to ask what he could do to help, or maybe to protest her helping him this much, but before he could say anything, Melissa caught him. "No. You need to rest. Don't argue with me, just scoot!"

John must not have turned away quick enough because Melissa caught him by the shoulders and turned him toward the living room, giving him a swat on the behind for good measure. "I said scoot!"

John laughed, which made his head hurt a little, but he didn't care. Having someone boss him around for a change felt nice. It reminded him of better times. "Okay, okay. I'm going!"

John settled himself on the couch and used both hands to pick up the remote. He could sort of hold it with one hand and poke at the buttons with the other one, but it was difficult. Eventually he stumbled onto something that wasn't a crime drama or a wildlife documentary, and after a moment he realized it was some made-for-tv chick flick. Oh, well. Maybe Melissa would want to keep him company for a little while if he left it on. And really, it wasn't as bad as he'd been dreading. By the time Melissa came in with lunch, John really wanted to know who the baby's father was - the caring but distant husband or the bad boy mechanic with the heart of gold.

After a moment of watching, Melissa said, "I hope you're not watching this for my benefit."

John smiled, "You caught me. My secret's out. I'm an excellent host - when I'm allowed to be - and I put on something I thought you'd like."

"Okay." Melissa shrugged and raised her eyebrows like she didn't believe him. Then she handed him a plate of what looked like five different food groups, all cut up into bite-sized pieces.

John was about to ask about a fork and then about how he was supposed to hold the fork when he realized he didn't need one. Everything on his plate was dry enough and small enough to be picked up with forefinger and thumb, but didn't require the strength or dexterity that a fork would. "You really have thought of everything, haven't you?"

Melissa took a bite of her own food and finished chewing before she said, "Well, not everything. I have _no_ idea what you want to do when it comes to using the bathroom."

John grimaced at the thought. "I guess I'll have to change into sweatpants. Something without a belt."

"Or we could put you back in a hospital gown," she said with a chuckle.

"Yeah, I don't think so."

John found out that the father of the baby was in fact the caring husband, which he thought was stupid, because he'd already left the woman after finding out about her affair with the mechanic. When an itch above his eyebrow caught his attention, John raised his arm to go after it. And ended up hitting himself in the face with his cast. "Ow! Shit!"

Melissa barked a laugh and had to put a hand to her mouth before the food she'd been chewing fell out. John frowned and when Melissa finished chewing and swallowed, she said, "Sorry! I'm sorry! That was _classic_ , though."

"I have a head injury," John said, sticking his bottom lip out even further. "Don't you practice _not_ laughing at injured people all day at work?"

"I'm not at work," she pointed out. "And besides, I've only perfected the art off staving off the laughter until I get to the break room."

John pouted and rubbed at the sore spot on his head, which was close enough to his actual head injury to make him painfully aware that it was still there. Melissa set her plate on the coffee table and pulled his hand away from his head, saying, "Don't be such a big baby."

"Isn't it time for more pain pills yet?" John asked, hoping his expression would plead his case for him.

Melissa tutted. "You know it's not. What? Do you want me to kiss it better?" Before John could object, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his forehead. Shocked, all John could think about was how close she was and how nice she smelled and how he really wanted to kiss her on the lips. He'd only felt this way a few times since Mary had passed, and right now with Melissa, it had an immediate effect. John sat up a little straighter and put one casted arm in his lap to try to hide it.

As Melissa pulled back, she must have seen something on John's face (probably because outside of what he had to do for his job, John was a really shitty liar), because her grin fell. Before John could stammer out an apology, though, a warm smile spread across Melissa's lips. She leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth, just the wrong side of chaste.

When she pulled back, John licked his lips and said, "Well." He took a breath, letting it out in a rush when his lips matched Melissa's grin. "Well, that was nice. Um. Did you want to...?" John wasn't sure what exactly he was asking for, but he trusted Melissa and her judgement.

She patted his chest and said, "Yes, I think I would. But first, you need to finish your dinner. You're not taking your meds on an empty stomach. Not while I'm here."

John chuckled and leaned forward to grab a bite-sized piece from his plate. "Does that mean you'll have to stay?"

"Yes." Melissa nodded decisively, a smirk at the corner of her lips. "I'm going to stay and you're going to do exactly as I say. Got it?"

John crossed his legs and coughed to hide how flushed her tone must have made his face look, judging by the way it felt. "Got it. Nurse McCall."

Melissa's smirk widened into a white-toothed grin. It made John think that maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad, even with two broken wrists and a concussion. He also made a mental note to call Stiles and quietly bribe him into spending the night away from home. John only wanted one person looking after him tonight.


End file.
